Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(68)
Helping set up is my way of an apology for stepping on her toes.
With the extra hands, everything is set up early, which gives me time to read Gigi’s latest English essay, catch up on messages from people wanting to join the Enchanted book club, and rewrite the same two lines of the chapter I wrote last night. I had such big goals when I started that book club, and I feel like I blink once between sessions until it’s coming back around. I want to give it more attention, but I don’t know how to find the time.
I feel the same about writing, although recent events have caused inspiration to flow out of me. Sure, I rewrite every other word, but at least there are words on the page now. Even if, when I’m being totally honest, until the last week I definitely hadn’t been working on it as much as I should.
When the penthouse elevator doors open unexpectedly, someone a lot more interesting than a caterer steps out. “It’s very pink,” Henry says, looking across the living room of the suite. He’s not wrong. Between the balloons, food choices, and inflatable beds set up in front of the movie screen, it feels a little like Barbieland in here. “I feel like I just stepped into the middle of cotton candy.”
“That’s a funny way to say wow, Halle, you have such an eye for design,” I say playfully as he strides confidently across the room toward where I’m working. “Also, aren’t you supposed to be at the barber’s? Your hair is looking very not-recently-barbered.”
When he reaches me, he bends down to kiss my forehead gently while dropping his overnight bag next to the table I’m working at. “You smell good.”
I have the overwhelming urge to throw myself at Henry. I don’t because I don’t know if that’s cool, but I really want to. In one way, it feels strange to me that we haven’t talked about what, if anything, we are now, but I also kind of like not having another expectation to meet.
He’s been busy with an art project and hockey, and I’ve been organizing this event and getting on top of my other responsibilities, so it feels like we’ve hardly spent time together, but that was okay. It turns out I needed a little time alone to process my new feelings anyway. It’s what I like about Henry; he doesn’t expect me to act a certain way.
“Don’t distract me. Why aren’t you at your appointment?”
He sighs and drops into the chair beside me, quickly leaning forward to peek at my laptop screen. “It’s walk-in and I didn’t leave home when I was supposed to leave. Then I didn’t leave at my backup leave time, and I just kept staring at the time until I got to the point where if I did go to the barbershop and wait for the only guy I’ll let cut my hair, I’d definitely be late to this.”
“How do you ever get anything done?” I ask genuinely. “I would have dropped you off if you needed someone to nudge you.”
He runs his hand over his hair, his now-longer curls moving under his palm. “I used to go with a guy on the team named Joe. I put him onto my barber when we met because his hair texture is the same as mine, and he hadn’t found a good one yet. It was our thing that we did together. Then we’d watch sports for a couple of hours and hang out. He graduated and moved to Connecticut for law school, so now I have to go by myself.”
“You had a date day with your hockey friend? That’s so cute!”
I’m definitely smiling, but he isn’t. He rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t a date. It was two guys with the same barber going to get their hair trimmed at the same time. Then hanging out in the same place afterward.”
“So you got all your date experience from Joe, and now you’re passing it on to me? I love this. How wholesome.”
Henry moves forward to take my hands and pull me onto his knee. With our faces level he leans in, his lips practically brushing mine. “There’s nothing wholesome about the things I think about when I’m with you. Or when we’re apart.”
I rub my nose against his slightly and his breathing slows. I lower my voice. “Did you say the same thing to Joe?”
That one makes him laugh. “No, but there’s lots of things I say to you that I don’t say to anyone else. How long do I have you before everyone arrives?”
Henry’s finger travels over my thigh, tracing small circles and swirls while he listens to me talk. It makes it difficult to string a sentence together.
“Less than an hour. Aurora is at dinner with her mom and sister, then I arranged for a car to pick everyone up from her house. The event coordinator was superefficient, so the setup crew and deliveries finished early.”
“What do you want to do with time alone in a hotel?” he asks, his voice low as his mouth skims my jaw until his lips find my neck. “After a week without me?”
My skin feels electric. Every cell in my body pays attention when Henry is near me, and the more he touches me the louder they scream for more. More touching, more pressure. Just more. It’s as exciting as it is totally terrifying.
“I want to go into my bedroom”—he mumbles an mmm of approval against my skin—“and take off our clothes.” He kisses my neck, and the will to continue dwindles with every microsecond. “And put on our personalized Aurora’s-birthday-sleepover pink pajamas.”
He stops and slowly leans back so I can see him and his dilated pupils. “We need to work on your delivery, but I’m okay with this plan. And it’s been so long since I saw you totally naked…” His arm scoops under the back of my knees, and before I can react, he’s carrying me across the room toward the bedrooms. “Which one is ours?”